


Decking the Helicarrier (with Stealthy Minions)

by orderlychaos



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Feelstide 2012, Fluff, M/M, Minions, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/pseuds/orderlychaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feelstide prompt:  Decorating the Helicarrier for Christmas without being caught by Fury</p><p>“Is that a Christmas tree?”<br/>It was.  Clint was particularly proud of that fact.  It was just over six feet tall and covered in as much tinsel and blinking lights as he could get his hands on.  In order to actually place it on the centre of the Helicarrier’s bridge, Clint and his minions and Natasha had had to conduct a complicated tactical mission to make sure both Director Fury and Agent Hill were off the bridge for long enough and then glare the bridge technicians into submission so they wouldn’t blab who did it and spoil everything.  Natasha was doing a particularly good job of that, even if half the technicians looked like they were holding back laughter.</p><p>Clint recruits minions, decorates the Helicarrier by stealth and then finally mans up and confesses his feelings to the man he loves, because if you can't do that kind of thing at Christmas, when can you do it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decking the Helicarrier (with Stealthy Minions)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I just want to warn everyone that there are a few swear words in here. Particularly from Fury, because apparently in my mind he swears a lot :) Also, I have (yet!) to read the wonderful Hawkeye comics I have seen posted all over Tumblr, so most of my information about Kate Bishop has come from there. I should probably also warn you that this is so fluffy your teeth might rot, but I seem to be incapable of writing something not fluffy this holiday season :)
> 
> And finally, I want to say a large thank you to Henry. You read this, answered my questions and were generally awesome while I wrote it. So thank you. :D Thanks also go to Fire, who helped me with the title and because you are also awesome :)

Prompt:  Decorating the Helicarrier for Christmas without being caught by Fury

 

It was the middle of December and there was not even a tiny speck of holiday cheer or decoration on the SHIELD Helicarrier.  Clint Barton thought that was pretty much a crime against Christmas, but no one was listening to him anymore.  Apparently starting to sing carols in mid-November did not endear you to your team mates, which had to be a little hypocritical since one of those team mates was Tony Stark, who was pretty much the dictionary definition of obnoxious.  Clint might have carefully taped a picture of Tony from a tabloid into the dictionary under the correct definition to prove it.  Either way, the lack of holiday cheer on the Helicarrier was a problem and Clint was determined to fix it.  And naturally, with the rest of the Avengers irritated with him, it meant he needed to find outside help.  Clint was not above using his reputation at SHIELD to his advantage – along with the fact it was almost Christmas and the new crop of junior agents were adorably naïve to his tricks – to gain himself a few minions and it just so happened that there might have been a familiar face among the new agents.

“Hey there, Lewis,” Clint said with a grin, resisting the urge to laugh when the woman in question whirled around in surprise.

Darcy Lewis narrowed her eyes in irritation, her hands curled into fists defensively in front of her.  Thankfully, she didn’t reach for her infamous tazer.  Clint rather suspected Coulson had confiscated it again.  Behind her, the other junior agents training in the gym all looked on with wide eyes and whispers.  Clint smirked, because hey, apparently Avengers were cool.  “Barton!” Darcy grinned.  “Have you been keeping your hot ass hidden in the ventilation again?”

Clint’s smirk morphed into a genuine grin.  He’d liked Darcy since the first time he’d met her in New Mexico during the whole mess with Thor’s first arrival to Earth.  She was smart and funny and the opposite of boring, particularly when she was drinking.  Coulson hadn’t liked that particular episode, but what else was Clint going to do in the desert when there was nothing to shoot?

“Barton?  As in _Hawkeye_?” another voice asked and Clint turned to see a tall brunette eyeing him with wide eyes from underneath her fringe.  “No way!  You never said you knew _Hawkeye_!”  The brunette was dressed like Darcy in sweat pants and a loose t-shirt with the SHIELD logo on it, and she was eyeing Clint with a little too much interest for Clint to be truly comfortable.  “You never said he was so hot, either!”

A third female voice snorted, but Clint recognised this one.  “Puh-lease,” Kate Bishop said, sauntering around Clint to stand beside Darcy, a familiar smirk on her face; she too, was dressed in sweats.  “You haven’t seen the abs and the...”

“Kate?” Clint asked, genuinely surprised to see her here and in SHIELD-issued sweats.  “Don’t you have like your own company somewhere you should be running?”

Kate shrugged with a grin.  “Apparently, SHIELD just can’t live without me,” she said.  “Who’d have thought, huh?”

“Wow,” the brunette breathed.  “You both totally know Hawkeye.  This is so _cool_.  I knew I chose right when I picked my two new best friends.”

“Ah… who are you exactly?” Clint asked, a little confused.

“Oh!” the brunette said brightly.  “Claire Weiss.  I’m one of the new junior agents.”

“You know that thing with Item 47 a while back?” Darcy asked him with a grin.  “The thing with the bank robberies?  That was totally Claire.”

Clint blinked for a moment, before he realised what Darcy was talking about.  “Wasn’t Sitwell supposed to fix that?” he asked.

“Uh huh!” Claire said brightly, practically bouncing on her toes.  “He recruited me!  Well, me and Benny.  Benny’s my boyfriend.  He’s gorgeous and really smart.  He’s the one that got the alien… thing to work.”

Blinking again under the onslaught of information, Clint nodded.  “I’m sure that’s really… great,” he said, a little awkwardly, before turning back to Darcy.  “I need help, Lewis,” he told her with a grin.  “And then I remembered exactly what you’d do for a bottle of vodka.”

“Okay, Barton, what are you planning?” Kate demanded, before she smacked him on the arm.  “And why didn’t you think to include me?”

Clint scowled.  “I didn’t even know SHIELD had recruited you,” he muttered.

“Agent Coulson totally promised he’d tell you!” Kate said.

Thinking back on it, Clint might remember a few memos addressed to him and possibly an email or two.  He’d been too busy Christmas shopping and plotting to actually read them and figured they’d be a good excuse to drop by Coulson office later in time for lunch.  Maybe he shouldn’t actually have ignored them.

“So what do you need our help with?” Darcy said, breaking into his thoughts.  “And where is this unbelievably sexy Russian and cat-suit clad partner of yours that I keep hearing about?  It’s not nice to keep things from friends, Barton.”

Clint waved a hand.  “Tash is… around,” he said; he was pretty sure she was.  Didn’t she have a meeting with Hill today?  “What I need your help with is a little interior decorating,” he added with a smirk.

“You better not have asked us this just ‘cause we’re girls, Barton,” Kate growled.

Clint hoped his expression told her just how stupid he thought her response was.  He’d learnt that one off Natasha.  “No.  I asked you because I need minions and you’re all awesome enough to be my minions,” he said.  “Fury is being a hardass and won’t let anyone decorate the Helicarrier for Christmas.”  He paused and pouted a little.  “That’s just… _evil_.”

“You want us to help you put Christmas shit all over the Helicarrier?” Kate asked.

“Oh, we are so in, Barton!” Darcy grinned.

“This is going to be _good_ ,” Claire agreed.

“Awesome,” Clint said.  “Just one more thing, okay?  _Fury cannot find out_.”

*~*

“Why do you need minions?”

Clint smiled at the sound of his best friend and partner’s voice somewhere above him.  He didn’t look up from what he was doing that, because he needed to get this exactly right.  It wasn’t exactly easy to make exact replicas of all the Avengers and friends to hang on a Christmas tree they were going to put on the Helicarrier bridge, but Clint thought they’d actually come out pretty well.  Stark came complete with those ridiculous sunglasses of his, Pepper had her Blackberry and Thor even had a little hammer to wield.

“Clint.”

“Hey, don’t knock the minions, Tash,” Clint said, biting his lip as he put his finishing touches on the last of the decorations.  “Minions are _awesome_.”

With a sigh, Natasha sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the table to Clint.  She reached out to place her hand over his and stop what he was doing.  “Clint… are you okay?” she asked softly.

“I’m fine,” Clint said with a grin.  “Why do you ask?”

“The lower floors of the Helicarrier are starting to look like a tinsel making factory exploded,” Natasha replied.  “I know you like Christmas, but you don’t usually go this insane.”

“Well, Fury wasn’t letting anyone decorate the Helicarrier, so I decided to fix things,” Clint shrugged.

“By recruiting minions and making little tiny Avenger dolls,” Natasha said flatly.

Clint rolled his eyes.  “The minions weren’t actually that hard to recruit,” he said.  “I only had to promise two bottles of vodka to Darcy and Claire and Kate said she’d do it for access to my skittle arrow stash.”

“And the dolls?”

Pasting a grin on his face, Clint looked up at his best friend again and tried to ignore the way her sharp eyes were dissecting him.  “Well, something has to decorate the Christmas tree we’re going to put on the bridge.”

“Clint, you’ve made the little Hawkeye doll and the little Agent Coulson hold hands,” she said impassively.  “In fact, you’ve sewn their little hands together.”

Suppressing the urge to fidget, Clint felt his cheeks heat a little.  “It’s not a big deal, Tash…” he tried, but his best friend only sighed again.

“What happened to the whole ‘I’m going to tell him this year, I swear, Tash’?” she asked.  “Your pining is so far beyond ridiculous it’s become embarrassing.”

Clint frowned.  “I’m not pining,” he grumbled.

Natasha snorted.  “Clint, you plan your entire day around how many times you can accidentally bump into him before he thinks something is wrong, your eyes follow him whenever you’re both in the same room and you keep sighing like a fourteen-year-old girl with a crush.”

She held up the two doll decorations he’d made.  “You’ve sewn your _hands together_.”

Clint immediately snatched the dolls back and smoothed his fingers down the little suit he’d made for the Agent Coulson one.  Natasha scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest.  “You are lucky I love you,” she muttered.

“Will you help me put these up on the Christmas tree we’re going to sneak onto the bridge?” Clint asked hopefully.

“Will you finally man up and tell Coulson you’re in love with him?” Natasha shot back in a frustrated voice.

Watching his best friend for a moment, he saw the genuine concern and sympathy in her eyes.  Clint sighed.  “If I don’t say yes, you’re going to tell my minions and you’re all going to tease me, aren’t you?” he said.

“Mercilessly,” Natasha agreed.

“Okay, but you have to help me put up the Christmas tree first,” Clint said.  It was okay.  He was Hawkeye and an Avenger.

He could do this.

*~*

“Is that… are you…”

The sound of Pepper Potts at a loss for words was actually so surprisingly that Clint actually stopped what he was doing to look at her with wide eyes.  “Is that a _Christmas tree?_ ”

It was.  Clint was particularly proud of that fact.  It was just over six feet tall and covered in as much tinsel and blinking lights as he could get his hands on.  In order to actually place it on the centre of the Helicarrier’s bridge, Clint and his minions and Natasha had had to conduct a complicated tactical mission to make sure both Director Fury and Agent Hill were off the bridge for long enough and then glare the bridge technicians into submission so they wouldn’t blab who did it and spoil everything.  Natasha was doing a particularly good job of that, even if half the technicians looked like they were holding back laughter.  Kate was keeping watch by the door to the corridor and thankfully keeping her sassy comments to a minimum, while Claire was gleefully hanging mistletoe everywhere and Darcy was alternating between hanging tinsel and drinking what suspiciously looked like eggnog.  Clint himself was hanging upside down from the rafters so he could put the finishing touch to the tree itself – a little miniature version of Fury dressed up to be the Christmas angel in black leather and wings.

Pepper was still staring open-mouthed at the tree.  Clint totally blamed Kate for letting her breach the perimeter and he hoped she wasn’t about to turn around and tell Fury.  Tony had tried last week to put a bit of tinsel and mistletoe on the bridge and she had pretty firmly been on Fury’s side when the Director had ordered Tony to stop.  “Is that…” Pepper started again.  “Clint, is that a little version of you and Phil _holding hands_?”

Clint winced.  He was hoping people wouldn’t spot that.  “Uh… maybe?” he said.

He heard one of the bridge technicians to his left start sniggering.

“Quick!” Kate hissed suddenly, breaking the moment.  “Fury’s coming!”

“Scatter plan alpha!” Darcy whispered loudly.

“Pepper,” Clint said, dropping down to land on his feet on the deck.  “Please, I beg you, _do not tell Fury it was us_.”

Pepper, after a long look at Clint, strode forward and yanked the little version of Clint and Coulson off the tree.  Shoving the dolls into Clint’s hands she spun him around in the direction his minions had disappeared.  “I’ll make you a deal,” Pepper said in a soft voice.  “I won’t say a word to Fury about what happened here if you promise me one thing.”

“Um… okay?” Clint agreed, wondering if he was going to end up regretting his promise more than he’d regret it if Fury caught him.

“Please, for the love of sanity, _tell Phil how you feel about him_ ,” Pepper growled, her eyes fierce.  “I cannot take _anymore pining_.”

Clint blinked.  “Wait, what?” he said, pretty sure Pepper hadn’t caught him doing anything of the sort.

“ _Phil_ ,” Pepper said as Natasha rolled her eyes in the background.  For a moment, Pepper’s expression softened.  “He pines.  _Hopelessly_.  Fix it and I won’t tell Fury.”

Clint held the two dolls close to his chest as he nodded, stunned.  “I can do that,” he muttered, his brain still trying to process it.  Coulson _pined_?  For _him_?

Natasha grabbed Clint by the arm and started dragging him off the bridge.  “I’ll make sure it happens,” she told Pepper firmly.

“ _Good_ ,” Pepper replied fervently, turning on her heel a second before Natasha dragged Clint out of sight.  “Director!” they heard her greet brightly.

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Fury yelled.  “Who put a damn Christmas tree on my _bridge_?!”

*~*

“Barton, do you have an explanation as to why Agent Lewis is now referring to herself as one third of ‘Barton’s Angels’ and is constantly being found in places she has no clearance to be?”

Clint, having just been unceremoniously shoved into Coulson’s office by his best friend, looked at his handler and tried not to show the way his heart was threatening to pound through his rib cage.  He fixed a smirk on his face and attempted to hide the dolls still clutched in his hand behind him; it wasn’t an easy thing to do with the way he’d plastered his back against the door as if he wanted to escape.  Not that Natasha would let him, even if he could.

Coulson looked up from where he sat, the ever present paperwork and intelligence reports scattered over the couch around him.  Usually, the sight of the usually impeccably dressed Agent Coulson stripped out of his jacket and with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows would mean that Clint would immediately start plying the older agent with food and coffee and smartass comments until he relaxed a little and lost some of the tension in his eyes and shoulders, but right now all of those intentions went out the window.  Coulson had always looked so amazingly approachable when he was like this and Clint had always suppressed urges to lean over and run his fingers over Coulson’s strong forearms or slide his hands along Coulson’s soft-looking shirt and feel the firm, warm muscle underneath.  Clint cleared his throat and stared at the surprisingly dishevelled agent as Pepper’s words went around and around in his head.

 _Pining_.

For _Clint._

Clint could suddenly see what Pepper meant in the way that Coulson’s eyes immediately softened as they looked at him and he set aside the report he’d been glaring at to turn his whole attention on Clint.  How had Clint never noticed that before?  “Clint?” Coulson said softly.  “Is everything all right?”

“Of course, boss,” Clint said, trying to sound his normal, insubordinate self.  “And I have completely no idea about what Lewis is talking about or the giant Christmas tree on the bridge.”

Coulson narrowed his eyes at Clint’s words and Clint cursed inwardly.  Natasha and Pepper had thrown him so off balance he was letting things slip now.  Except, they weren’t exactly the right secrets he was slipping.  “Christmas tree on the bridge?” Coulson echoed.

Clint widened his smirk.  When in doubt, bluff it out.  “Um, can we forget I mentioned that?” he asked.  “And if Fury asks, I’ve totally been here helping you with paperwork all morning.”

Coulson watched him for a long moment, his eyes unreadable.  Clint felt trapped by the gaze.  “He’ll never believe that in a second,” Coulson said.  “You be better off finding somewhere to hide.”

“I… you’re _helping me_?” Clint asked.

A rare hint of a smile tugged at Coulson’s mouth.  Clint wanted to kiss it.  “Well, apparently you actually managed to install a six foot Christmas tree on the bridge,” he said.  “So I think I can let things slide.  Just this once.”

Clint grinned.  “I was particularly proud of the angel on the top, sir,” he said.  “Dressed him up like Fury myself.”

Coulson let out a soft chuckle.  “I’ll have to try and see that before Fury incinerates everything,” he said.

“He wouldn’t really do that, would he?” Clint asked, suddenly fearful for the fate of all the Christmas decorations they’d put up.

“I don’t know how, but I’m always surprised at how much Christmas is your favourite holiday,” Coulson said softly, rising to his feet and walking towards Clint.

“You know me, sir,” Clint quipped, his stomach still twisting with nerves.  “I love to spread cheer and goodwill this time of year.”

Coulson raised a sceptical eyebrow at that which made Clint grin.  Then Coulson’s eyes narrowed on a spot just behind Clint near the door and when Clint followed his gaze, he realised Coulson was staring at the two dolls he still had clutched in his hands.  Clint tried to stuff them even further behind him before he realised it was completely futile to try – not to mention it would defeat the _entire purpose_ for which Natasha had shoved him in here.  Swallowing heavily, Clint took the two dolls out from behind his back and offered them to Coulson.  “Um, I made these for the Christmas tree,” he said, wondering if Coulson could hear the way his heart was pounding.  “Except Pepper thought you might want to see them.”  At least Clint guessed that was what the grabbing and the shoving had been about.

“She did?” Coulson asked softly, staring down at the two dolls in his hands with an unreadable expression.

Clint wasn’t entirely sure what to do and he had to fist his hands in his cargo pants in an effort not to fidget.  He opened his mouth to say something – _anything_ – because it had to be better than the nervous tension that was rising up to suffocate him.  Coulson wasn’t saying anything, he was just staring at the dolls in his hands and Clint was about three seconds from wanting to melt into the floor.  Pepper had said Coulson was _pining_ and Clint had made doll versions of them that were freakin’ _holding hands_.  Coulson was one of the smartest men Clint had ever met.  He _had_ to know where this was going, right?

When Coulson finally looked up, Clint still couldn’t read his expression.  Those familiar, warm blue eyes that Clint had fallen in love with so long ago just watched Clint and somehow that intense gaze was making it hard to breathe.  Then Coulson’s eyes dipped to Clint’s lips, before they glanced away quickly.  With a rush Clint finally worked it out.  Coulson was _scared_.  He couldn’t have missed what was going on, because Clint wasn’t exactly being subtle here.  And come to think of it, this wasn’t the first time he’d caught Coulson looking either.  The knowledge gave Clint a secret thrill and soothed a battered part of his ego that had suffered at Natasha’s taunting, but mostly Clint was _relieved_.  Coulson wanted _him_ just as much as Clint wanted him back.

“So, I have a problem,” Clint said.  He wondered if he dared tell him his problem was named Phil Coulson.  “Have you ever wanted something so badly that you were terrified to actually reach out and take it?  And even if you did say, ‘screw everything’ and go after it, the possibility it wouldn’t work has the power to break you into a million pieces forever?”

“Yeah, I do,” Coulson – no, _Phil_ – breathed so softly Clint almost missed it.  The words were filled with so much longing it was almost heartbreaking, even as it filled Clint with hope.  Phil cleared his throat.  “It’s not like you not to go after what you wanted,” he said in a louder voice.

Clint gave a chuckle, but he didn’t really find anything all that funny.  “You’re missing the point, Phil,” he said before he lost his courage.  “Have you even realised I sewed their hands together yet?”

Phil’s look could only be described as stunned.  “But why..?”

For a second, a look of pain crossed his face.  Maybe it was the comfort of being in Phil’s office or maybe it was the fact that Phil was still holding tightly to the two dolls, but Clint softly muttered, “Screw it,” before he leant forward and pressed his lips to Phil’s.  He pulled back almost as quickly, not even breathing, and studied Phil’s face.  Clint’s whole body felt tense enough to snap with his next breath.  Had he just ruined everything?

Phil looked completely stunned by the action.  “Clint?” he questioned.

Clint wondered if he could hear the painful way his heart broke.  “Never mind,” he said, trying to sound like he didn’t think his world was ending.  “You should totally see the tree before Fury…”

Suddenly, Clint felt himself yanked sideways into Phil’s arms, before Phil’s mouth slanted across his.  The kiss was everything Clint’s hadn’t been – greedy, possessive and explosive.  All Clint could do was fist his hands in Phil’s shirt as he was happily swept away on the storm.  When Phil finally pulled back, they were both panting and Clint was pretty sure his brain had melted out of his ears, particularly with the way Phil’s hands were gripping his hips like they didn’t want to let go.  Clint absently wondered what Phil had done with the dolls.

As if realising what he was doing, Phil suddenly pulled his hands away and Clint made a soft sound of protest.  “Clint…” he began and Clint could see the conflict running across his face.

Damn, didn’t he get it yet?

Reaching out, Clint grabbed Phil’s tie with one hand and his belt with the other and yanked Phil forward before the other agent could even _think_ about getting away.  Phil’s blue eyes studied Clint’s face like he was a key piece of information in one of Phil’s files and Clint shivered a little under the intense scrutiny.  It felt better than good to be the subject of Phil Coulson’s _entire_ attention.

“Are you..?” Phil began, before clearing his throat.  “Are we..?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that we are,” Clint said, sliding his arms down Phil’s chest to curl around his waist.  “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

“So I’m not dreaming?” Phil asked softly, leaning forward to rest his forehead gently against Clint’s.

“Nope,” Clint grinned.

“So you’re really here?”

“I’m here,” Clint agreed, helpless to stop himself brushing his lips against Phil’s again; kissing Phil was something he could happily get addicted to.  “Forever, if you want it.”

That made Phil pull back a little.  “Forever?” he repeated.

Clint took a deep breath, steeled himself and admitted the truth with a nod and a half-smile.  “I love you,” he said with a shrug because it was truth and Clint had stopped fighting it a long time ago.  “I don’t know for how long, but a long time.  And I’m not going to say that I’ll be happy to have you as long as you want me, because I’m worth more than that – you taught that to me – but I am going to fight for this if there’s even a small chance I can have it.”

Phil closed his eyes as if Clint’s words had hurt.  Clint braced himself to have his heart broken, even though Natasha had been right and he’d had to risk it.  Even the chance that Phil could love him back would be worth the pain if he didn’t.  “You will _never_ stop amazing me with how brave you are,” Phil whispered hoarsely, blinking open his eyes, before he leaned forward and kissed Clint again.

The kiss may have been less devouring than the first, but it still successfully scattered Clint’s every thought.  When he could finally gather them again, he frowned at Phil.  “What?” he asked.

Phil shook his head with a wry smile.  “I’ve been grappling for years with the fact that I unequivocally love you,” he said.  “And I’ve been trying to get up the courage to tell you since I almost lost you in Shanghai and you just…” Phil lifted his hand from Clint’s arm to wave it in Clint’s general direction.  “You’re fearless.”

“Not fearless,” Clint told him, because if there had been a word to describe what Clint had been feeling as he confessed it would have been _terrified_.  “If I was fearless I would have told you ages ago.”

Phil reached up to slide his fingers over Clint’s jaw and Clint leaned into the touch.  “Just so we’re clear,” Phil said.  “I love you too.  And forever… forever would be good.”

Clint felt his face curve into a wide grin that mirrored Phil’s, before he chuckled helplessly.  The feelings running through Clint were a rush that was a million times better than making the perfect shot or that moment of free-fall after Clint jumped off a building.  It was perfect in a way he’d never thought he’d ever feel and in that moment, Clint Barton was King of the World.  He was invincible.

“Barton!”

Fury’s loud bellow was heard even through the closed door of Phil’s office and Clint winced.  Fury sounded _angry_.  “I’m pretty sure Fury is gunning for me at this point.  You might want to just give up and save yourself,” he whispered softly, although he wasn’t completely sure as to why he was _still talking_ when Phil’s lips were _that close_.

Phil grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischievous humour and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening.  “Oh, I think I’ve got an idea about that,” he said.

“Yeah?” Clint asked, unable to stop his eyes hungrily following Phil’s hand as it reached up to start tugging on his tie.

“Yeah,” Phil agreed with a smirk, using his other hand to tug Clint’s hips forward as he started walking them both backwards towards the couch.  “I have a way of guaranteeing Fury won’t set a single foot inside this office.”

The tie was tossed somewhere over Clint’s shoulder.

Clint grinned.  He was okay with that.

*~*

A while later Clint tried to catch his breath as he peeled now-ruined paperwork off his sweaty skin and grinned.  “So, I’m not sure if I’m impressed or mortified that there’s a good chance Fury heard that,” he said as he snuggled closer to Phil behind him.

Phil snorted as he tugged a blanket over the two of them, before sliding an arm around Clint’s waist and tugged him even closer.  Clint had no objection to this and happily wiggled as close as he could get.  “Clint, I think most of the fourth floor heard that,” he said.  “You really can’t be quiet, can you?”

“You knew that two hours after you met me,” he replied with a smirk, before another thought hit him.

Oh _God_.  His minions and Natasha were holed up hiding somewhere on the fourth floor.  If they’d heard anything… oh, what was he thinking?  Natasha had probably told them all and Kate had hacked the security feed.  They were all going to tease him _mercilessly_ for this.  “Relax,” Phil said softly in his ear and Clint found himself obeying before he could really think about it.

“You can say that, but you’re not the one with minions who are now going to be completely unbearable about this,” Clint grumbled.  “And that’s not even counting what _Natasha_ is going to say.”

Phil snorted as Clint turned around to face him.  “You’re forgetting about Pepper,” he pointed out.  “But it doesn’t matter.  It’s worth every second of what they come up with.”  His blue eyes were soft as they looked down at Clint.  “ _You’re_ worth it.”

Clint felt his answering smile turn a little goofy around the edges.  “Awesome,” he said, letting his eyes drift closed for a well-deserved nap.  “That means you’ll also save me from Fury, right?”

“Oh, I won’t have to,” Phil replied softly.  “I’m sure the Director will support my conclusion that neither you or Junior Agents Lewis, Weiss and Bishop had anything to do with the recent Christmas decorating on the Helicarrier.”

“He will?” Clint asked.

Phil groaned softly when his reply was cut off by the angry pinging of his phone.  Clint huffed, but pulled the offending object out from where it was half buried under the couch cushion near his thigh.  He held it out to Phil, knowing the other agent would probably want to check what was going on.  The fact that they’d ended up naked on the couch Clint was blaming on the holiday season and years’ worth of sexual tension overpowering Phil’s need for professionalism.  “Oh, no,” Phil muttered, surprising him.  “That’s from Fury.  You can deal with it.”

Clint thumbed the phone to open the text, still a little surprised that Phil was letting him do it and trying not to smile goofily again.  He had to laugh when he saw the words the Director had sent.

_Motherfucker, is that me on top of the Christmas tree?  I will burn it down!_

“You know, Fury has no sense of Christmas spirit at all,” Clint muttered.

Phil stretched distractingly and Clint watched as the blanket slipped, revealing his very naked chest.  Clint wondered what the hell he was still doing with Phil’s phone when there was a _naked_ Phil lying _right there_.  Not quite tossing the phone into a nearby pile of clothing, Clint grinned down at Phil and took a moment to bask in just how much of a lucky son-of-a-bitch he was.  The phone chimed again, but Clint ignored it.  His eyes were drawn to the long and still healing scar near Phil’s heart and he reached out to trail a finger down it, knowing just how close he’d come to losing everything he’d wanted before he’d had a chance to have it at all.

“Clint…” Phil began, the expression in his eyes turning bittersweet.

“You know,” Clint interrupted, not wanting to be sad now.  “It’s just struck me that you’re one of the best Christmas presents I’ve ever gotten.”

“ _One_ of the best?” Phil echoed, clearly trying to look offended, but failing because of the warm laughter in his eyes and the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, so you’re totally the best Christmas present I’ve ever unwrapped,” Clint corrected with a smirk, before he leaned down to kiss Phil’s smile just because he could now.

Phil groaned at the bad joke.  “You are incorrigible,” he said.

“You love me anyway,” Clint said, his smirk fading into a genuine smile as Phil pulled him down for a proper kiss.

“Yeah,” Phil agreed softly.  “I do.”

Clint smiled.  “Best Christmas _ever_ ,” he whispered.

Phil just smiled back and yanked him down for another kiss.


End file.
